


Morning Sex and Semi-Scandalous Tweets

by Elizabeth1985



Series: Cockles [8]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Misha, Bottoming from the Top, Cockles, M/M, Top Jensen, You are not alone, basically just porn, because of all the cockles this was necessary, chatting before sex, cute kind of i guess lol, morning tweet, morning video, my tags suck today sory, waking jensen up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth1985/pseuds/Elizabeth1985
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up in a great mood, Misha decides to take a private 'You Are Not Alone' video. And if he ends up tweeting the first frame as a picture, so freaking what. Hehehe... No one will ever know!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Sex and Semi-Scandalous Tweets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenwolf36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenwolf36/gifts).



> Thank u my lovely beta [Tennyo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo)

Feeling well-rested, and in very good spirits (albeit slightly sore), Misha got into position and aimed the phone’s camera at Jensen. Those Texans, always so adorable when they’re sleeping.

“Still not alone,” he whispered, doing his best to hold back a giggle. Who needed coffee? All he needed was a little before bed exertions and a long uninterrupted night.

In true Jensen—minimal words only—fashion, a gruff murmur rose up, “Mish… Too early.”

“Oh come on,” he urged. “Open your eyes and smile for the camera.”

As the last word breached Misha’s lips, Jensen’s sleep puffy eyes popped open and a low-level shock eased into his expression. “If this is a livestream, I will kill you.”

Misha laughed and changed the angle of the phone to show more of Jensen’s face and mussed hair. “No,” he droned despondently. “But, if it were, I _guarantee_ we’d sell thousands of shirts in seconds.”

“Maybe,” qualified Jensen, “but you’d be short a boyfriend, I can tell you that.”

Faking a sullen attitude, he clutched his heart. “You would never. Besides, you have to admit, it would make our lives so much easier.”

Groggy and disinterested in morning shenanigans, Jensen snorted at the comment and untangled his arms from the sheets and slapped his palms against Misha’s hips. “You plannin’ on doing anything up there or just lookin’ pretty?”

Biting his lower lip, Misha flipped the phone around and grinned. “Sounds like an invitation, I think.” Grinding his ass against Jensen’s lower half, he smiled as a prominent ridge made itself known. “Twice in twelve hours… you’re asking a lot of me here, Jen.”

Sporting his default grumpy countenance, Jensen snatched the phone and held it beside him, aiming the camera at Misha. A slow grin spread across his face, “Am I? I seem to recall a certain night where you had your way with me… four times. Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

Misha pursed his lips and tried to look daunted, but truth was, he was more than ready. Not _ready ready_ , but ready in the sense that they had blissfully nowhere to be today and if he were feeling a bit used, who cared. He’d just be lying on the couch most of the day anyway.

“Are you keeping the phone on?” he asked. While Jensen took his time answering, Misha eased up and pushed the sheet down to Jensen’s knees, removing the only barrier between them. When they were together, and no kids were around, they slept naked.

“Yup. You woke me up, now you’re suffering the consequences.”

Misha smirked, “Dangerous move, Director. One slip of a finger and you might accidentally tweet a video of me riding your dick to one and a half million people.”

Reaching out with his free hand, Jensen gave Misha’s stiff sex an encouraging stroke. “Man, I’m not the one who tweeted twice and deleted it both times by acciden—“

“—You were blowing me!” he shot back in his defense.

Jensen’s only response was to laugh darkly and slide his hand back to squeeze Misha’s ass.

“Alright… _buddy._ You want a show… you’re getting a damn show,” Misha finished off his statement with a finger pointed to the camera. Which he then brought to Jensen’s mouth and lifted a single brow.

He dipped his finger into Jensen’s mouth, thrusting in and out as if he were fingering him, more for the amused look in Jensen’s eyes than for practical reasons. When his index was coated in spit, he went in with his middle finger and did the same.

By the time he was done, both of their cheeks were flushed. Misha reached back and held his breath as he penetrated himself with a single digit, exhaling as he felt the soft grip around his finger. His attention drifted, losing focus as he worked himself open.

“Totally sending this to your wife,” Jensen commented, his voice thick and rough so early in the morning.

Caught up in the sensation of pressing two fingers in, he could only smile towards the camera, not focused enough to make any kind of remark. After a few minutes, his impatience overrode his desire to avoid some slight discomfort.

He eased back towards Jensen’s knees and said, “Your turn.”

“Uh-uh,” Jensen shook his head, “You’re doing all the work this time.”

Misha growled. “I always do the work in the mornings!”

“Because you’re always more awake of the two of us… come on… you’re giving me a show, remember?” Jensen smiled innocently, batting his eyelashes to make Misha laugh. “Please,” he begged, pouting his lower lip for affect.

“You’re mean,” Misha stated, essentially admitting defeat.

“Hehe,” chuckled Jensen in unabashed triumph. “Oh yeah, wake up… have a little sex… go back to bed.”

Shaking his head, Misha leaned across Jensen towards the nightstand and pulled out the drawer. Behind him, sneakily, Jensen eased a wet finger into his ass and all Misha could do was bow his head towards his forearms resting on the bed and breathe.

“Mmm, not helping my progress here…”

Easing his finger in and out, Jensen gruffly replied, “Yeah, but I couldn’t help myself.” Throwing out a sharp, momentarily satisfied moan, Jensen withdraw and rested back on the bed.

It took a few seconds to reorganize his brain before Misha reached into the drawer and grabbed the fresh bottle of lube. He straddled Jensen’s hips as he twisted off the cap and picked at the foil seal. “Why the fuck do they do this? To drive me insane?” he asked no one in particular. “Like, seriously, the last thing I want to do when I’m horny is sit here and pry at a fucking superglued seal. I mean, it’s not like the damn thing’s a bottle of poison— _Christ_.” His nail snagged an edge, and he ripped at it. Naturally, it only tore off half the foil piece, but It was good enough.

“It’d be one thing if the damn seal actually did its friggin job. Remember the incident in Toronto?”

Misha rolled his eyes as he recalled that disaster. Three pieces of clothes got destroyed from that goddamn lube explosion. Three pieces of clothing… every single one a pair of pants. And for that matter, the only pairs he’d brought for the weekend.

In the end, he’d had to go and buy new ones. They were pink… and Jensen had _hated_ them.

“You know,” he began as he twisted the cap back on, “it occurs to me”—he pointed at the phone in Jensen’s hand—“this is going to be the lamest porn ever.”

Jensen smiled, affection shining through in his stare. “Well I like it… I think that’s all that matters.”

“You like my commentary on the nuisances of foil seals on bottles of lubrication? Turns you on, huh.”

Laughing, Jensen replied, “Oh yeah, you know what does it for me.”

Cracking a brief laugh, Misha squeezed some onto the tip of Jensen’s cock and started to work it around. He watched the reaction from the touch; the way Jensen’s head tipped back into the pillow, eyelids fluttering for a short few seconds as he adjusted to the pleasure.

Easing up onto his knees, Misha shuffled forward and bent down to greet him in a morning kiss. “Hi.”

Jensen snorted a laugh, “Hi back.”

Holding Jensen’s erection in place, Misha lowered his hips… biting his lip as the blunt head pressed against his rim. Fuck… the prep had been half-assed at best. And last night was rough and frantic. Basically a quickie to ensure they slept well.

Relaxing the best he could, and shifting his focus to the feel of Jensen’s hand rubbing his thigh, he sank back until his body seemed to get with the program and let Jensen in. It was slow going, each inch seeming thicker than the last. An unwarranted hiss was sucked between his teeth and he glared at the man on the bed. “You and your stupid giant dick.”

Chuckling, Jensen twisted the phone to smile at the camera and wink. “A-ha, documented and recorded.”

Seating himself fully, resting in the groove of Jensen’s lap, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, but I think everyone knows that already.”

“No they don’t.”

“Yes they do! Because you enjoy going commando, and, um, people notice.”

Jensen shrugged and pointedly glanced down to where they were joined. “Comfortable?” he teased.

Smiling wide, Misha said, “As a matter of fact…” and then rose up a few inches and fell back down with a smack, “Yess…”

All banter and discourse between them dwindled as he started moving, getting into a steady pace—not fast, but more rocking and grinding his hips around. Anything more than that was too vigorous for a morning fuck.

Jensen watched, his gaze unwavering—the phone loosely held in his right hand resting on the other pillow. As Misha moved, shifting and straining in Jensen’s lap, his eyes occasionally caught the lens of the camera and it simultaneously turned him on and unnerved him in equal measure.

After a while, he wanted it deeper, he wanted more. It required a change in position, something that meant Jensen could still lay back and reap the benefits.

Smirking, he untucked his shins and planted his feet on the bed at either side of Jensen’s hips, his knees out and pointing to the ceiling, ready to ease down. As he cupped his own sac and held it out of the way, he smiled down and asked for a little help, “You can at least hold yourself for me.”

“I suppose,” Jensen droned, rolling his eyes, but unable to fight off the smile in his expression.

His eyes locked on Jensen’s as he started to impale himself for the second time. It never failed to kick up his arousal as he watched the building hunger in that stare. Everything felt thicker, deeper, and fuller than before. Calling on his thighs to bear the strain, he started to push up and sink down. Over and over, feeling Jensen’s steadying hand at the base of his cock brush against Misha’s tender rim as he lowered. He felt the pass of knuckles teasing at the connection, and he couldn’t help licking his lips, his mind suggesting things he’s sure his body was in no shape to handle.

But Jensen seemed to follow his thoughts—they’d been together long enough that words weren’t needed. Despite the impending discomfort, he sighed with a potent need the second he registered Jensen’s fingers feeling around his shaft and Misha at the same time, letting his fingers follow the repeating motions. The added touch slowly drove him mad, and he groaned wantonly, wanting to feel more of Jensen than he was already.  Sex was euphoric and often led to stupid decisions, but love was irrational and despite Jensen’s impressive size, Misha’s was craving the feel of his deft fingers pushing in alongside.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” warned Jensen, seconds before Misha was forced to close his eyes from the sudden stretch of a finger pushing inside him next to an already prominent cock.

“Holy fuck…” he breathed, forcing the air through his nose and trying to relax. The sensation was like nothing else, too much and yet… perfect.

Taking some of the effort, Jensen started to push up, burying himself deep and sliding his finger in, curving in as he went, stroking in places that made Misha’s lip shake.

“Okay?”

Misha could only nod and absently reached for his own sex in need of attention. He started to ride Jensen as best he could in a haze of ecstasy, but every time Jensen pulled a come-hither motion inside, he swore and nearly collapsed.

His movements were slow, his muscles starting to tremble as he greeted Jensen’s hips rising up in a relatively matched pace. More often, he was left holding his erection in his fist instead of getting himself off, constantly distracted by the rigid sex sinking into him… and the added torture of Jensen’s finger getting in on the action.

“Mmngh, you feel good, babe… come on, move your hand—“ Misha complied and stroked his own cock, sighing in relief. “—There you go,” praised Jensen, sliding out his finger only to push in his middle one and start fingering him faster, in a weird contrast to the slowness of everything else.

“Uhh,” Misha whined in a low whimper, “Oh, god…” His skin started to bead sweat, body fighting the ache of an approaching climax with twitches and reflexive pivoting of his hips, needing constant motion and pressure. He was past being pleasantly aroused, his nerves shot to hell and his basic needs reduced to one: Needing to come. 

Jensen abandoned the phone on the pillow and gripped his waist, holding him in place as he took over, rutting up and grunting with the effort each time his abs clenched with another thrust. “Ahh, god, you feel so fucking good…” Jensen rambled, his voice hoarse and his green eyes no longer looking at Misha’s face but the place where the bodies slotted together. “Mmngh,” he breathed hard, his chest rising under Misha’s bracing palm.

“I can’t, uhn,” Misha squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach clenched and heat rushed out across his skin. “Fuck… need to come.” He hummed and tried to rephrase, “Jensen… you need to…” _come…_

Sighing brokenly, his body stressing out over the oxygen it wasn’t getting, Misha slid his fist quicker up and down his cock, loving the way his warm hand only barely touched the skin, his fingers sliding up over the crown and ghosting across the slit to spread whatever beaded come was already there.

Knowing they were close to falling apart, Jensen let go of his grasp on Misha’s waist and reached for his left hand, linking their fingers together in a vain attempt to keep him upright.

Planting his feet on the bed, Jensen got the leverage he needed and put all his strength and stamina into the last few minutes of fucking, pounding his hips upward in repeated, bracing thrusts. Misha was so far gone, he barely registered each individual penetration, only feeling the constant stretch and slick friction. Jensen’s middle finger no longer worked in and out alongside his dick, but stayed buried, curling forward incessantly.

“Oh… fuck,” Jensen shouted, the two small words broken by the jarring force of his hips slamming against Msiha’s exposed ass, nearly throwing him forward. Misha tightened his grip on Jensen’s hand, needing to hold on under the onslaught of Jensen’s jerking motions.

Seconds later, Misha lost control—the coiled ache deep in his pelvis started to pulse and he threw his head back as his body shook through the orgasm. Thick, lingering moans rose up from his throat. Every wave rolled through him, forcing every muscle to lock up over and over.

He knew Jensen felt every spasm echo around his cock, because he’d freed both hands and grabbed Misha’s hips hard, pinning him on top so that Jensen could empty himself, his mouth gaping open and his chest frozen still, not breathing until it was over.

Looking down, everything a little fuzzy, Misha saw the strips of white that decorated Jensen’s chest… and hilariously, the side of his face… a little on the pillow.

He chuckled. “At least I didn’t get any on the phone.”

“Mmm,” hummed Jensen, fazed in a post-orgasm state. Lazily rolling his head to the side, he said, “Wipe me up.”

Having zero strength left in his legs, it was a wonder he was able to hoist himself off, letting Jensen’s sated cock slip out of him. Almost immediately, come started to drip down the inside of his thigh.

Great. They should’ve thought ahead and grabbed a towel. Not for the first time, he casually said, “We really need to start keeping those hand towels in the drawer.”

Misha used his fingers to swipe off the come from Jensen’s cheek, though the man didn’t seem to acknowledge him.

“Are you falling back asleep?”

“Yes,” Jensen grumbled back.

 “You know the phone’s still recording right…” he pointed out.

“Nah, probably ran out of space on the thing before we finished anyway,” Jensen sighed, “it’s a shame.”

“Should I edit and post it?” he said jokingly. “Clip out the naughty parts and just show me waking you up.”

“No.”

“Come on…”

“No,” repeated Jensen.

“I’ll make it a tweet and delete.”

“No.” But Jensen was quickly drifting off, his argument losing force.

“Two second clip…” teased Misha, using a pillow case to clean up his boyfriend as he chatted away.

“Mnh,” Jensen grumbled, half asleep, no longer paying attention to the conversation.

Whispering, Misha looked down at this phone, “Fine… just a picture then! That’s not too damaging...”

Chuckling to himself, Misha took a screenshot of the first frame and then started to type out a little something, slap on a winky face annnnd _done_.

Looking down at Jensen, he said, “Never alone, babe…” and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed some Sunday cockles porn!! BTW ... random note, I am currently making butter chicken and my entire house smells amazing!!!!!!


End file.
